


The Very Evil Postal Empire of Doom

by bunnyfication



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 12:52:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnyfication/pseuds/bunnyfication
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once, the Danish superhero Crimson Viking collected a group of others to work with him. That, as things started by him sometimes do, ended badly. But that was years ago, and much happened since. But some things don't change. Like Salmiakki Avenger's spell words being strange, the sunrise...or Norway pwning all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Very Evil Postal Empire of Doom

**Author's Note:**

> Besides Norway/Sweden, there's implied Norway/Denmark and Finland/Sweden (and really, they've ALL probably done it at some point...it's like a soap opera)
> 
> This was started by a friend telling me about an article that told about the Norwegian "postal empire" threatening Swedish post offices, and Sweden and Denmark joining forces against him...but the fic kinda took that idea and ran with it like a thief with a granny's purse.
> 
> (written in 2010)

Berwald frowned as he stepped into the dark building. This was not unusual as such, but on this special occasion he was frowning because he had a bad feeling.

"Finl'nd?" he called out quietly, but all he could see in the gloom were wagons piled with packets and letter filing stations. The room smelled faintly of paper and glue. Here and there the darkness was broken by a puddle of faint light, but between them Berwald could see nothing.

"Sweden?" A voice whispered from somewhere, and hearing his codename, Berwald stepped forward uncertainly. Only a few people were supposed to know that particular codename. But then, one of those people was the Crimson Viking, and they hadn't always been in the best relations since said names had been decided on.

He jumped when the lights suddenly blinked on, starting from the end of the long hall, and bathing it in sharp fluorescent glow. They revealed a man standing a few steps away from him, with self-assured pose. He was wearing a midnight blue hooded cape that hid his features. The darkness inside the hood seemed unnaturally deep, as if enhanced by...something.

"World Serp'nt," Berwald said darkly.

The other man nodded.

"You should be more careful with the things you put on paper, Ox Star," World Serpent said calmly, still in that eerily blank tone.

"What've ya done w'th th' workers?"

World Serpent shrugged a careless sort of gesture.

"Why, I simply gave them a holiday. Who do you think owns this place...owns most of the post offices in this country, in fact?"

"Wha...how?"

"Bought them," World Serpent said, in a voice that might have been smug if it hadn't still been so calm and collected.

Berwald's eyes narrowed under his mask. Bougth? Quietly and quite lawfully? That...that was against the rules! Berwald decided that against such a devious opponent his usual caution was of no use, and charged.

*

Some minutes later, he was regretting his rash actions. He'd barely even touched World Serpent, and was beginning to feel quite winded from ducking his invisible attacks. One of the attacks had hit a crate full of letters, cracking it in half and scattering the envelopes all over the floor.

"Ox Star, should you really be destroying the property of the post...and in your own country too?" World Serpent asked, sounding bored.

He would have to dig in that he'd done this at Berwald's own home country, wouldn't he?

"Shouldn't you know better than to fight an opponent with magical powers with that little sword too, hm?"

Berwald didn't answer, merely grit his teeth. That was precisely the reason he tended to collaborate with Salmiakki Avenger. Clever of the World Serpent to call him here under the _real_ name of Tino...and extremely worrying. That name even Crimson Viking didn't know.

With that in mind, Berwald made one more dash towards his opponent. He would have missed again, except the other slipped on the pile of envelopes scattered from the broken crate, and Berwald managed to grab his cape.

It fluttered away, and he made to strike the villain...and then froze.

"...Norway?" Berwald asked, not believing his eyes. The Mage was supposed to be dead!

For once, even the ever calm Norwegian was looking mildly annoyed. Clearly he'd meant to hide his identity. Still, Berwald's surprise gave him an opening.

"Well, this game was getting boring anyway. Get him!"

Something hit Berwald in the back of his head, and the world blackened around him.

*

He woke up with his hands tied behind his back, and something that felt like a belt strapping him to a bench. He was also naked. Not good.

"Cable ties. I hear they're very handy for this sort of activity as well," Norway...no, The World Serpent said coolly, but with a certain undertone of satisfaction. One that reminded Berwald of a more pleasant setting, which in turn made him flush all over. When The Wor...no, easier to think of him as Norway despite everything, especially when he drew one booted foot along the inside of his thigh. Berwald had to grit his teeth hard not to make any embarrassing sounds.

Norway sighed.

"I hear you made up with Finland...and Denmark as well. I'm glad, you were so annoying sulking over that whole mess," Norway remarked conversationally.

He walked around to Berwald's front, staring down at him impassively. Berwald had to crane his neck upwards at an unnatural angle to be able to look him back in the eye, but he did it anyway.

"Why?" he asked. "If...if 't was Ice, he got better..."

"Yes," Norway snapped "But doesn't really have the range of movement he once did, does he? Denmark should never have brought him on that mission anyway, if I'd been there..."

Berwald lowered his head, suddenly not wanting to meet Norway's eyes after all. The reason he _hadn't_ been there was because of Berwald. He hadn't known how to plan his attacks without the aid of a magic user, having worked so long with Tino. And Tino...he'd chosen to go with Red Snow, and Berwald still wasn't entirely sure how much the Russian had actually pressured him.

Probably not as much as he'd thought at the time, but he couldn't begrudge Tino that. Even if it had ended badly, he'd learned a lot from the fellow magician, things that Berwald couldn't have ever taught him. And also learned how to deal with betrayal, which Berwald sometimes hoped Tino would have never have had to learn, even thought it had brought him back to him.

But be that as it may, Tino had left him for a time, and Berwald had persuaded Norway to leave The Crimson Viking and Ice to work with himself instead. And so The Mage hadn't been there to cover for those two, and Ice had almost paid for it with his life.

"I..." Berwald began, but Norway dug his fingers into his chin and wrenched his face up.

"Stop feeling sorry. Wasn't your fault. And in any case, it wasn't my only reason..." Norway seemed to consider what to say for a moment, his head tilted thoughtfully. "I just got...bored. None of the villains just seemed worth it, what with that _American_ hogging up all the work. So in the end I thought, why even bother. Far more interesting to pit myself _against_ all of you."

Berwald stared at him. He couldn't believe it...but perhaps he could, after all. He did remember how Norway had kept remarking how _easy_ it was, with a blank look that betrayed just a hint of distaste, after many of missions. He had worried, but then it had appeared as if Norway HAD found someone who could match him, and more...

"What'bout th' troll that we thought kille ya?" Berwald asked suddenly, and Norway smiled crookedly, his eyes glancing minutely to something on the side. Except there was nothing there.

"The one only I could see? Oh, nothing, I just beat him. And now he works for me."

"Oh," Berwald said, his skin prickling with cold sweat.

Norway hadn't let go of his chin all this while, the hold had simply turned more gentle. Now he brushed his thumb over Berwald's lower lip, slipping it in from one corner of his already half open mouth. It was another far too familiar gesture, and Berwald felt his body grow hot again.

He closed his eyes, desperately willing it to calm down. He shouldn't, this was...Norway wasn't...

"You still like it, don't you? Being tied up and at another's mercy entirely...poor Berwald, always too strong for your own good, hm?" Norway whispered, and Berwald shuddered, because it was true.

"I wonder...is it as good with your little sidekick, now?"

Berwald did open his eyes at that, and glared up at Norway.

" _Yes_ , and he's not m'..." Norway brushed one hand over his shoulders and back then, his fingers suddenly slick, almost to...and for a moment Berwald could only gasp, speech leaving him. But still he managed to bite out: "We're _equals_ now," still glaring at Norway, who sighed and rewarded him by making sure he could say no more.

After that, it was like his voice was coming from somewhere far away, far less important than the pleasure that left Berwald struggling against his ties, unable and unwilling to break free.

"It does seem you two cleared up things since then at least. I'm glad," Norway said, and it was impossible to say if there was any irony in it.

"I imagine he will be mad over this, perhaps? Maybe even enough to make the fight _interesting_?"

Finally Berwald couldn't take it anymore.

"Norway," he managed to say.

"Yes?"

"Shut up already."

"And?" Norway asked, with a tiny grin that left his eyes a bit less sharp.

Berwald glared at him once more, lowering his face when he felt the blush burning it. Norway knew very well what he wanted, just as well as he knew Berwald couldn't say it. They'd done this before, after all, even if it had been years ago.

"Please," he said, very quietly.

When he looked up again, wondering what the other was waiting for, Norway was looking down at him with an unreadable expression. Then he brushed his fingers over Berwald's cheek, oddly gently.

"You really are too lovely...and too forgiving," Norway said, more like a statement than any endearment. Berwald shuddered, unused to it. Finland, for all he knew how to be kind, had never been good with words. Not words like that. Neither of them was.

Norway, it seemed sometimes, was good at almost anything he tried.

And then he was walking around Berwald, to where he couldn't see him. He jumped slightly when light fingers settled on his hips, and Norway's warmth grew closer.

"You should say, you know, if you're...uncomfortable," Norway remarked, and then pushed in in one slow stroke.

Berwald whimpered, telling himself no one was hearing it except Norway, and he...well, he'd heard worse. Which reminded him.

"Th'...the troll, 's not...?"

"No, he left a while ago already. Said it looked like I could handle you on my own," Norway said in the tone that for him passed for amused.

It was rather infuriating how Norway could keep talking in his normal tone even in the middle of sex. At least when one could think clearly enough to be annoyed, which Berwald couldn't at that moment. As it was, it just seemed more arousing.

He was hanging just slightly off the edge of the bench he was tied to. Enough for his erection to brush against it tauntingly, but tied too close to it to move much. It was unbearable.

"N-N'rway..." he grunted, and the other leaned even closer, so his chest was pressed right against Berwald's back, except where his tied hands were in the way. Norway hands went under him at last, right where they were most needed, stroking lightly and teasingly.

"Just about ready, aren't you?" Norway said, still as calm as anything. "Me too, don't worry..."

But of course he kept it up for a while yet, enough to get Berwald to whimper again, and plead loud enough that his throat ached afterwards, before letting them both tip over and release. It was only then that he finally went quiet, just for a moment.

And then he pulled out and walked out of the room on sure feet, and it took a while for Berwald to pull out of his daze and realize he'd been left there, still tied to the bench and feeling increasingly sticky.

However, he'd barely had time to start feeling properly uncomfortable, when there was the unmistakable sound of someone crashing through the door, as unsubtle as the battle axe he used for fighting.

"Berwald? Oh, there you...huh?"

Berwald groaned inwardly, letting his head hang low for an instant, and then looked up at The Crimson Viking, who was standing there as if he'd forgotten what he'd come here for. Probably had, knowing him. Berwald decided grimly to be professional and calm and _not blush_ damn it. He did anyway.

"Listen, ya have t'... _Denmark_!"

The Dane seemed to snap out of whatever daze he'd fallen into.

"Huh?"

"'s Norway. The World Serpent, he's _Norway_.

"Wait, wait, _What?!_ "

It took Berwald a while to convince his colleque, and even then the Dane suspected he had been fooled by a spell. Berwald shook his head resolutely.

"No, I know Norway, 't was him."

The Crimson Viking eyed him up and down, and Berwald had to tell himself to be professional once again. Even tied to a bench and dripping...he told himself firmly to think about it later once out of danger.

"I do hope you do, him not being dead would be great." the Dane said almost wistfully.

"Ev'n as a super villain?"

The Crimson Viking shrugged.

"Yeah, of course? It's Norway!"

They were quiet for a while, and then Berwald coughed.

"Ok, th'ts fine...can ya untie m' now?"

"Oh, right!...um..."

Berwald closed his eyes, praying patience with Danes and idiotic children.

"Small knife, in yer boot," he mumbled.

"Heh, right...though you know, you do look awfully nice all trussed up there...yes yes, untying right now..."

"Well, hello, Denmark," a cool voice said from behind them. Where there wasn't a door at, but that had never stopped Norway.

Berwald closed his eyes again. Well, damn.

*

"Sweden~" Denmark whined. "My...arms hurt!"

Sweden didn't bother answering with more than a grunt. He'd been tied up for longer than the Dane had, and he wasn't complaining. Denmark shifted on the chair he was tied to, back to back with Berwald. Classical, Norway had said.

Denmark made another noise of frustration and let his head slump on Berwald's shoulder.

"Did he _have_ to tie us sitting up too? I mean, that's just too cruel. And uncomfortable.

"Hn," Berwald agreed. Even if he thought The Crimson Viking was more bothered from being unable to move than anything, the hyperactive fool. Still, he did have a point...

"...ya ok?" Berwald asked reluctantly.

"Aww, you do care! Well...a bit sore, but not...hurt. Norway knows what he's doing, you know? Haha, of course you know..."

Berwald was _not_ talking about this with Denmark. Not now, and not tied to a chair. Unable to leave, he settled on ignoring him.

It worked all the way until Norway walked back to the room, wearing his cape again but with the hood pulled down.

"I suppose you'll tell everyone, so the secret identity's blown...little good as it'll do to you," he said when he noticed their looks. "And before you ask, I don't do elaborate and ultimately useless death traps. If I wanted you two dead, you'd be already," he added coolly.

Denmark slumped just perceptively in relief...or maybe disappointment, sometimes Berwald suspected he _liked_ getting out of death traps at the last moment.

"What now then?" Berwald asked.

Norway was glancing at his watch. "Well, he should be here any moment..."

And then the door exploded.

Norway smiled tightly, and gave a wave of his hand. The smoke dissipated obediently, and a figure in black and white became apparent. His face was covered by a black domino mask, and his long boots had a prominent checkerboard pattern.

"Ah, there you are, Mystic Soldier Salmiakki Avenger," Norway remarked, like the Finn was late to a board meeting.

Tino looked from the two tied to the chair to their captor, and then stared at the latter with his mouth open. Fortunately Tino was faster to recover from surprises than a certain Dane.

"Norway, what have you _done_. And why the hell?" he hissed, eyes visibly narrowing even behind the mask.

With one hand, he pointed his staff in the direction of the two tied up men and said a single word. The ropes around them froze and grew brittle as paper suddenly. They shook them away, but stepped back from the two others anyway. Wasn't wise to get in the way of two wizards about to battle, not without a plan.

Norway shrugged.

"Ask Sweden," he said glibly. Tino didn't turn his gaze away from his opponent for a second, but his voice was tight when he spoke.

"Ox Star, you or him hurt?"

"We're f'ne" Berwald answered, kicking Denmark in the ankle when he opened his mouth to add something. Discussion of fine details belonged to after the battle.

"Ok, just hang in there then..." The Salmiakki Avenger mumbled, clearly already readying himself for the first attack.

He pointed his staff at Norway, and cried out:

"Finnish sauna, löylyä lissää!"

There was a billowing cloud of blistering steam, hot enough to suffocate and burn skin to blisters. Again, Norway waved it away with barely an effort.

"Must you warn before? Makes things so predictable," he said, sounding bored.

Tino frowned, his jaw tightening.

"You cold deceiving bastard...suit yourself!"

He raised the staff above his head, light glinting on the silver lion crest.

"Pakkasukko, Kuuraparta, Kenraali Ta..." Berwald moved fast and slapped a hand over his mouth, realizing at the last moment just what Tino was invoking.

"Not _here_ " he said urgently, meaning not indoors and in the middle of a city of his.

Tino gave him an pouty look, and then shrugged a bit abashedly.

"Oh, right..."

Norway was just standing there, seeming to smirk at them without actually doing it. Tino huffed, and squared his shoulders.

"Hmph."

He pulled out a bottle from seemingly open air, and snapped his fingers, lighting the thread sunk into the liquid. Norway blinked, and Tino grinned, pulling his arm back.

"Hölkyn Kölkyn, herra Molotov!" he said cheerfully, and threw the bottle.

Norway ducked, and then shielded himself from the explosion.

Berwald sighed.

"Tino?"

"Yes?" Tino answered, just as cheerfully.

"Ya notice we're in a room full o' paper?"

"What has that to do with...oh shit!"

Then he was busy keeping the quickly thickening smoke from suffocating them.

"Hah," Norway said, his equivalent of crazy cackling. Then _he_ snapped his fingers, pointed, and suddenly Denmark went flying to his way, as if picked up by some invisible hand. A _large_ invisible hand.

"I'll take this one for now, see you later," He said, and made another gesture that had the metal roof peeling away like the petals of a flower.

There was a peculiar sound, like very distant singing, and he stepped on something invisible, Denmark's eyes bugging out as they rose to hover in the air.

Tino cursed, luckily without any magic in it, busy keeping the smoke at bay and unable to stop Norway's escape. Berwald leaned slightly on his shoulder, since his legs were feeling a bit wobbly.

"Oy, Tino," he said eventually.

"Yes?" Tino asked, glancing at him over his shoulder.

"How'bout water?"

Tino's eyes grew distant, and his lips moved soundlessly before he seemed to bring to mind what he was looking for.

"Pahus, kesäsade!" he said, giving a final listless wave of the staff. They were immediately after doused by a steadily drizzling rain, one confined to the inside of the house. Surrounded by lots of thoroughly ruined mail.

"Thanks, f'r saving m' " Berwald mumbled. It wasn't sarcasm, really. Much.

*

End (For Now).

 

Finland's attacks:

"löylyä lissää!" : Throw more water onto the stones!  
"Pakkasukko, Kuuraparta, Kenraali Ta..." : Frosty Old Man, Hoarbeard, General Wi...  
"Hölkyn Kölkyn, herra Molotov!" : Cheers, Mr. Molotov!  
"Pahus, kesäsade!" : Damn, summer rain!


End file.
